I have been different shapes and sizes through the years. Sometimes for the better, sometimes not, but on the inside, I have always been me.
Me with a crazy sense of humor. Me with joy in my heart. Me with love to share with others. Me with the overly critical eye, always seeking to make something perfect. Me with the same insecurities, same skills, same wants, same desires, and same faults.
Ok, some of those things may have changed, but for the better. Increasing in skills, learning how to do more things or how to do some things better. Those things have improved.
However, as much as I have been the same me, others have treated me far different. When I had lost 130 lbs, so more people talked to me, hung out with me and made me feel like an important part of their lives.
Once my metabolism crashed, and I started gaining weight back, that all changed. Some people did not even want to speak to me, especially not in public. Even my “friends” suddenly seemed too busy for me, but not for each other – just for me. I was not even given the same respect at work.
I heard comments made behind my back, especially from family. My sister mentioned to a complete stranger about how big my hips were. Nevermind that she weighed about the same as I did and was in fact 2 sizes larger at the time. I was looked down on because I had failed. I was only another statistic that had landed on the wrong end of the yo-yo string.
It hurt to be treated this way. It still hurts. Don’t I have all of the same gifts to offer? Don’t I have the same smile? I’m the same prize on the inside, but I am overlooked because I am not wrapped with as pretty of a bow. That is the reality of being an overweight woman in America.